Diamond Dust
by XxZuiliu
Summary: So tell me, what's a word called 'love,' really? [Collection of OCxCC drabbles and one-shots] [CLOSED: No longer accepting prompts/requests.]
1. Walk Into My Parlor (ShamalOC)

_..._

* * *

**Diamond Dust**

_1: "Walk Into My Parlor"_

* * *

"Mornin', sunshine."

She giggles softly when the man grumbles and raises a hand to cover his eyes at the sound of her gentle voice, rolling onto his side in a vain attempt to bury himself in the blankets and pillows.

"Fiv' more minutes." He mutters hoarsely, and she leans down to tug him out of bed–

A small squeak, and she suddenly finds herself ensconced within the blankets, tightly pressed against his body.

"Too early. Go back to sleep, Gladys." His breath fans hotly against her ear, and she lets a rosy blush slip across her cheeks, even as her palms press lightly against his chest in soft protest.

"Shamal, didn't you say you have a meeting with Vongola this morning?"

A curse, and then the man rolls out of bed, disheveled and disgruntled. He snatches a quick kiss from her lips before getting up and stretching, and she follows him up from the bed as well.

…

…

…

It is in absolute silence that she watches the doctor-assassin leave from the window of their small apartment with flat, emotionless eyes. As soon as he is gone, she turns back to the table and brings out a sheet of paper, spinning a pen on her fingers before settling down to write.

* * *

He does not suspect anything.

They never do.

* * *

Occasionally, there are times when she takes a moment to stop and _wonder_.

To wonder what her life might have been like had she not been born into the family business. When she spares a brief thought to the idea that maybe, _maybe _she might have been… someone else, if not for her circumstances. When she closes her eyes and imagines, what if…?

_What if…?_

A baker's daughter, maybe. She can see snippets of that life in her mind's eye. Wake up at the crack of dawn to knead bread and set the ovens ablaze, to let the kitchens roar to life. Man the storefront and smile prettily at the customers passing in and out through a set of polished cedar doors.

Or a flower girl. It's not something entirely impossible. Dance over winding cobblestone streets and laugh brightly, arms full of resplendent blooms and pastel petals trailing from her fingertips. Blow a kiss to anyone watching and offer them a sprig of daisies if they stopped and stared.

She can even see herself as a seamstress, on the days when she is feeling particularly fanciful. Sew and embroider intricate designs with bone-thin needles onto cottons and silks. Work with dyes and dip bolts of uncolored cloth in every shade of the rainbow.

Who knows?

The possibilities are endless.

But imagination does not change reality, and she is not so naïve as to think that she will be able to lead a civilian life in blissful happiness. She knows her nature too well to think that she would be satisfied with something like that. She is a spider –the kind that watches on with fascination as her prey struggle in the lines of her web, unknowing of the trap laid before them until they are already ensconced within those silver threads, held fast, with no chance of ever escaping again.

_That_ is the type of person she is, and this is the kind of work that she is born to do.

* * *

Unlike her, the tenth generation Vongola Boss and his Guardians are not fit for the mafia life. Sometimes, she almost pities them for being in over their heads.

But then again, their incompetence only means that her job is that much easier to do.

* * *

"Back already, Shamal?" She brightens, turning to the half-open door to their small apartment.

The hitman sweeps in to give her a brief hug, pressing a kiss to her lips, before wandering over and collapsing on the couch. She stifles a giggle at the sight.

(Who knew that Trident Shamal would be such a touchy-feely romantic under all that blatant flirtation and shameless bluster in the beginning of their relationship?)

She hands him a cup of espresso and watches him drain the entire cup in one go.

"How was the meeting?"

He grimaces.

"Worse than usual. Those box weapons that came out on the market –they're a menace, is what they are."

"No recruitment offers today?" She teases, already writing up the outline of her report in her mind as she listens to his words and reads his body language, and he gives her a wry smile.

"Turned them down again. I'm rather fond of this freelance life –not really looking to settle down anytime soon."

She nods, filing away the information to record for later as Shamal tugs her onto his lap and down for another kiss.

* * *

On one end of the thread she holds in her hands there is Gladys the emotionless murderer, and on the other end there is Gladys the sweet lover.

She knows perfectly well which Gladys she is.

* * *

"I'll be back around midnight, no need to save dinner for me. There's an interesting virus they want me to take a look at in the labs."

"Okay, Shamal."

* * *

Although she is a very talented killer, she is nonetheless a spy first and an assassin second, just like the rest of her family. This charade with Trident Shamal is not the first time that she has prostituted herself for the sake of gathering intel for the famiglia, and she very much doubts that it will be the last.

The thought does not bother her as much as it used to.

"Sorella, it's good to see you again."

She gives her little brother a quicksilver smile as he slips out of the shadows, and hands over the manilla folder from her bag to him. He takes the reports she has compiled on Trident Shamal and the Vongola Familgia without batting an eye, giving her a cheeky grin and a fleeting hug before he turns to leave.

"Too stiff, fratellino." She throws an offhand comment after him. "Any hitman worth their salt would be able to tell that those happy expressions of yours are fake. Ask grandpa for some pointers on your smiles and 'innocent' act when you get home."

He does not make any acknowledgment that he has heard her, but she catches the way his shoulders tense briefly before relaxing, and shakes her head fondly.

The boy still has a long way to go.

* * *

"Heading out again, Shamal?"

"Mmhm. I'll be back in the afternoon if things go well today."

* * *

Trident Shamal, for all that he is an accomplished doctor and a deadly hitman, a force to be reckoned with in his own right, is almost pathetically easy to keep in the dark in regards to her true nature.

See, thing is, for men like him –they only ever see what they _want_ to see. Sure, Shamal is a pervert and a skirt-chaser, but he is also someone who wants a woman who will stand by him and love him. Yes, his inappropriate behavior is a definite deterrent for having women attracted to him –but after the fiasco that was his last relationship, it's no surprise that no matter how much he longs for companionship, he still remains wary of risking another like that again.

('_Remained_,' really.)

The last girl had been an innocent schoolteacher. A girl who had been killed in the crossfire of a shooting incident. Gladys is not an innocent schoolteacher, but she is the supposedly-technically-civilian granddaughter of one of Timoteo's old, lesser-known, recently-deceased associates –she has more protection to her name and person than the last girl did, and, moreover?

She had been one of the only people to stand up for Gokudera Hayato when those unsavory rumors had begun flying around the hotheaded boy after he took his position as the right hand man of the new Vongola Decimo.

The interest in Shamal's eyes that had flickered briefly at her when she stared him down –it was an _opportunity_ that she had glimpsed there, and after including it in an report and receiving her orders–

Well.

Shamal was either a potential asset or a potential enemy to her familgia; being in such a close position to observe and influence him would no doubt benefit them in the long run.

* * *

"I received a job offer from the Gesso."

She blinks and cocks her head curiously at the doctor-assassin who slipped in through the window.

"Will you be taking it?"

Shamal gives a small snort at her query, throwing his lab coat over the back of the chair.

"Vongola has been chasing after me for years, and I haven't accepted yet. What makes you think I'd take the Gesso's offer over theirs?"

She hadn't expected him to agree to her famiglia's proposal, either, but makes a mental note to record this conversation word for word in her report, anyways.

* * *

Gladys is a skilled liar.

* * *

She lies as easily as she breathes and kills as easily as she blinks; this is why no one has ever suspected her of subterfuge and lived to tell the tale.

* * *

"Hey, Gladys? Feel like coming to the Vongola's social event with me? It's Yamamoto's birthday. His father will be coming over from Japan for it –the old man makes some mean sushi, y'know."

She smiles and nods at Shamal, and says she would love to come. Good-quality sushi is a rarity in these parts, after all, why pass up an offer like this?

* * *

Yamamoto Tsuyoshi dies when the Gesso somehow slips a bomb onto the airplane and sets it off just as they are halfway to Italy.

What an unfortunate accident.

* * *

"CEDEF wants me to tag along on their mission. I refused. They've got both Lal and Colonello heading out on this operation –in my opinion, that's enough firepower for _anything._"

Her head bobs up and down in agreement with Shamal as she sets down a cup of espresso in front of him and he pulls her down for a kiss.

* * *

The CEDEF team is annihilated and Colonello is killed in action, his pacifier taken by the Gesso Boss. Lal Mirch barely makes it back alive, hands shaking and clenched around a bloodstained camouflage-patterned bandanna.

How tragic.

* * *

"Yuni was at the meeting today. Said something about wanting to find a peaceful resolution to this conflict."

She blinks and tells him that peace sounds nice. Maybe he would stop coming back with blood splattered all over his clothes –bloodstains are hard to wash out, be more careful!

He laughs and trips her so she winds up sprawled on his lap.

* * *

Yuni of the Giglio Nero heads off to a peace conference with Byakuran, head of the Gesso Famiglia. By the end of the day, there is no Giglio Nero or Gesso anymore –only the Millefiore.

Shocking, isn't it?

* * *

Regret is an emotion foreign to her.

To feel regret is to imply that one has done something wrong in order to feel remorse for, and she does not look upon what she does as something twisted and abhorrent and _wrong._

After all, she lives in a world built on deception and operated on betrayal. It's Shamal's own fault for trusting her like this. What's one more lie, in the grand scheme of things?

She has never felt regret, and never will.

* * *

"Reborn says that we've got a Millefiore spy in our ranks –they've been checking everyone on the Vongola registers, but whoever the spy is, they're damned good at hiding." Shamal runs a harried hand through his hair, and she watches him pace back and forth in the room. "It's been driving all of us crazy."

"A spy?" She makes a face at that, lips curving into a frown. About time they finally noticed something off... or had she become complacent and allowed something to slip? "How detestable."

"Don't even know how Reborn caught onto his tail," Shamal shook his head, "Guess we'll just mark it down as one of those 'Greatest Hitman' things. Geez, and the bastard is still bedridden from that Anti-Trinisette radiation!"

She smiles, even though she feels there is no reason to smile.

"Reborn is certainly dedicated to the Vongola, isn't he?"

"Yeah. I just hope we find the guy soon. Reborn says it's most likely a person that no one would normally suspect, if they were able to keep under the radar for so long –we're trying to keep the investigation quiet, so nobody panics. Let me know if you ever see anyone acting suspicious around the headquarters, yeah?"

"Of course I will."

* * *

Sometimes, she wonders if they are all blind.

* * *

"I love you, Gladys."

"I love you too."

* * *

It's hard to like someone who is your mission target, when all you do day in and day out is observe and report his behaviors and activities and _everything_ to your superiors. But on the flipside, it's also hard to dislike someone when you live with them and know that they are in love with you and are willing to do anything for you _because_ of that love for you.

… Even if the one they love doesn't truly exist, not really.

It's become stifling, staying with Shamal. He doesn't go out as much anymore –slowly cutting off relations with Vongola in order to let it become easier for them to comb their ranks for their traitor, because when all is said and done, Shamal is still an outsider to the Famiglia's internal affairs. She finds that her reports are growing less and less useful, and that she has less time to write them up in.

"What's that you're doing there, Gladys?"

"Drawing," she replies without skipping a beat. The code that she uses for her reports changes every few months, and is one specially used by her family –outsiders have yet to crack their code, even the genius Giannini when they had caught one of her cousins last month. "See, doesn't that look like flower petals there?"

"… Looks like a line of ants to me."

She reaches over and hits him upside the head with her papers and laughs as he slips an arm around her waist and pulls her close to him.

His body is warm.

* * *

"You might get recalled soon, sorella."

She blinks lazily at her little brother, who stuffs her latest reports into his bag. The folder is much thinner than it used to be.

"I'm not surprised." She sighs, "Shamal is starting to take missions again, and he's almost always out of the house now. I'm sure I can slip back and–"

"No, sorella." The young boy peers into her eyes, "Recalled as in… permanently."

For a moment, there is only silence.

"… They have already made the decision, then?"

"No," her little brother shakes his head, "But there's another job waiting for you back home, and Shamal isn't as useful anymore, so–"

"I see," she cuts him off before he can continue any longer on this tangent. "I will keep that in mind."

…

…

…

(What is this panic beating in her heart? Shouldn't she be happy that she can finally drop this act and leave? Shouldn't she be glad that the end is finally in sight?)

* * *

She waits for Shamal to return from his latest mission.

By habit, she always brews two cups of coffee in the morning. Sets two plates out on the table at lunch. Turns around with a certain doctor-assassin's name on her lips whenever she needs someone to reach a little higher into the cupboards for her.

She wonders distractedly why she is acting the pointless part of a domesticated housewife when Shamal isn't even here to watch anymore.

It's all just an act, is it not?

* * *

_Sorry. More difficulties than expected. Will be back as soon as I clean this up with Lal. Damned Millefiore just won't die. Stay safe, find Hayato if you need help. Love you._

_-Shamal._

…

She frowns as tension she hadn't even noticed slipping into her frame relaxes at receiving the note. Shamal is only a target, nothing more –that means it's impossible for her to feel worried for him.

(… Isn't it?)

She scrawls out a quick message in return:

_It's okay. Be careful, stay safe, don't get hurt. Love you too._

_-Gladys._

* * *

She never receives a response. She tells herself that she isn't bothered by it.

* * *

The bed feels empty and the kitchen too large and the living room too quiet. She isn't bothered by this, either.

* * *

… How long does he plan to make her wait?

* * *

One day, the door creaks open and she turns around with a bright smile on her face and a name on her lips.

"Sha–"

Her little brother stands in the doorway, face bland and eyes blank.

"Sorella..." It is the first in a long time that she sees him truly hesitate, and before she can berate him for showing his emotions so carelessly– "Shamal is dead."

"Oh," is all she says.

* * *

"_I love you, Gladys."_

"_I love you too."_

* * *

… Shamal is a fool.

* * *

She pushes past the oaken doors emblazoned with the Vongola crest, easily backhanding the guards standing there, and effortlessly ignores the completely floored, dumbstruck looks that she receives as she sweeps over to the chair at the other end of the table in the not-so-empty meeting room. Sitting down and letting her gaze cut across to the young man sitting on the other end, ignoring Irie's stutters and the Cloud Guardian's glare–

Vongola Decimo.

"G-Gladys?"

When she speaks, her voice is not gentle and soft. Not anymore. It is cold and hard, just as she had always spoken years and years ago before she settled down to play housewife for the foolish man called Shamal.

"My name is Gladiolus."

* * *

.

…

.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Written fairly quickly, so please let me know of any mistakes you see in the text. Not too horrible, I hope?

The last line of this chapter is meant to be significant in the fact that Byakuran's subordinates have flower names. Gladys –Gladiolus, really– is a spy and an undercover agent, who was originally sent to spy 'anywhere close to the Vongola Famiglia,' and eventually ends up as Shamal's lover. It's just another mission for her, until somehow, somewhere along the lines, things become… _more_.

(This is also my explanation for why Shamal mysteriously vanishes during the Future arc in canon. xD)

So, on the general topic of _Diamond Dust._ I will be **accepting requests** for future chapters _**only if there are prompts attached**__**. **_

Confused?

Example of a prompt for this chapter: "ShamalxOC, in which the OC is a spy for Byakuran." Not very specific, I know, but feel free to add whatever parameters or ideas you'd like to see written. :3

If you submit a review with nothing but "[Insert random character name]xOC, please," I will most likely ignore it. Sorry. _Diamond Dust_ is meant to be a playground of ideas. If there's no description of any sort other than a general pairing request, it'll probably end up shuffled to the bottom of my list. So include a prompt, please!

-XxZuiliu


	2. Phantasmagoria (ByakuranOC)

Prompt by **PrimeraVastolordes**: "ByakuranxOC, where the OC was his lover in another timeline/world."

Prompt by **FreeWeirdGal**: "ByakuranxOC, where Byakuran somehow falls in love with the OC (not that he knows it) and decides to start investigating her alternate selves."

Prompt by **Harmonic Bunny**: "ByakuranxOC. Parallel dimension, possibly exists in the canon dimension."

* * *

_._

_*Might not be completely accurate to the prompts given, since it's kind of a mix of all three, but let's give this a shot:_

_._

* * *

**Diamond Dust**

_2: "Phantasmagoria"_

* * *

There is fire in his eyes.

(That's good.)

There is a good fire that the little brown-haired boy has burning in his eyes. That's good. It's a smoldering amalgamation of flickering-gold-amber-orange-sunset-dawn. He knows it's a good fire because he can _see_ it as a chill runs down his spine. Not just the brilliantly burning flames themselves, no.

_He sees hope._

He knows it's a good fire because. Because. In those flames burning behind the boy's eyes, he can see his will to protect his friends, see his determination to keep on fighting for the sake of the people he loves.

That's good.

(That's good.)

And then the boy is here before him and he hurtles down from the sky, fists glowing bright with pure Sky flames, and he hears the others shout out in alarm for this young boy.

Pity.

It's such a pity that the Vongola boy is going to die in vain.

(Why is it a pity?)

"I won't let you hurt them!" The little brown-haired boy cries out. "Get away from my friends!"

… Huh.

Somehow… somehow, the words seem oddly familiar on his tongue.

Hm.

Where has he heard it before?

_Where?_

…

(Somehow, even with death embracing him, those words are all he can find himself replaying over and over in his mind, over and over again… and again… and again…)

**5.**

* * *

Smoke. Ruins. Destruction.

(What has he done? WhAT hAs hE doNE? _WHAT HAS HE DONE?!_)

_See? See? Didn't I tell you? _The playful voice sing-songs in the back of his head, and this time he knows it's not his imagination, not anymore, if it ever even was in the first place. But it's too late, too late, _too late_.

The voice laughs.

_I told you that you're a monster, didn't I?_

**4.**

* * *

"Stop it!"

Blue eyes flash pleadingly at him as she stands there, between him and the little green-haired girl who holds what he needs in the folds of her dress. The Tri-ni-sette. _The last cornerstone of the Tri-ni-sette._ The Arcobaleno Pacifiers. He _nEeDS _tHem, cRavES them with the zeal of a thirsting man in the desert finding water at long last, and he snArLS at her, shoving her aside.

"MoVe," he says icily, as she suddenly latches on to his waist and clings to him like a pest, somehow holding him in place. Rain. Rain flames. She was using Rain flames to stop him. His patience snaps. "I sAId, _moVe!"_

"Yuni, run!" she screams at the little girl before them, who falters and bites her lip. "Don't worry about me, just RUN!"

The Sky flames that tear from his fingertips after the fleeing girl are abruptly intercepted by another burst of Rain, and he turns and glares at the blue-eyed woman.

"I won't let you hurt Yuni," she swears, a trembling note in her voice, and he feels a bloodthirsty grin stretch across his lips.

"Oh? yOU and wHaT aRMy?" he laughs at her foolishness. "SoON aFteR I acQUirE wHAt I NeeD fROm tHaT giRl, I wiLl hAve no mOrE usE fOr ThIS wORld. AlL wILl pEriSh iN fLAmEs."

"Why are you even doing this?" she asks desperately, and this time he notices it in a distant corner of his tattered mind that screams and writhes in pain. She's crying. _Crying. _He doesn't want her to cry. Wait, yes, he does. Does he? "Y-You're not… this isn't _you! _I know you, you wouldn't… I _know_ you! Sure, you don't like this world, but you would never actively work to destroy it! What in the world happened to you to make you like this? Tell me, what happened to the man I love?"

"'LoVE?" he repeats after her, tasting the word between his teeth. "Are yoU sAYing that you lOvE me eVen now?"

"… Yes."

He stills at that breathless whisper. Glances down at the blue-eyed woman. Smiles. Leans and presses his forehead against hers.

"Then you are a fool," he tells her in an equally quiet whisper. "I told you before, didn't I? I'm a monster."

She gasps against his lips; stiffening, then slumping in his arms. He hums contentedly to himself as he tastes the coppery sweetness of her blood on his lips, then breaks the sudden kiss and stands up again.

"YoU are mOST unWiSe," he says to her, "tO givE yOur heARt to a mOnSTer like me."

And then he calmly crushes the pulsating organ that he had torn out of her body, glancing down at the cooling corpse. A heartbeat, and he begins feeling himself smile again at what he sees.

Even in death, there is still fire in her blue, blue eyes. He always loved that about her.

**3.**

* * *

"I think I'm going mad," she says.

"Don't be ridiculous," he replies, blindly reaching out for the bar of soap on the counter. If anyone has the right to be saying that nowadays, it's him. She rolls her pretty blue eyes.

"No, really, I am." His sleepy angel lazily drapes herself over his right side, leaning forward and poking at the bathroom mirror insistently. "Either that, or I really need another dose of caffeine, 'cuz I'm seeing two of you in the mirror today."

"What?" he splutters in the middle of washing his face and hurriedly turns the faucet off, head snapping upwards and–

"What the fuck?!" There. There, right in the mirror. A white-haired man who had the exact same appearance as him, but with a sly grin spread over his lips as he–

_Yo there. How've you been doing lately, my beautiful little monster? And equally beautiful darling, I suppose. How was it? Did you two… sleep well last night? _… _Or sleep at all, for that matter?_

_My, my, isn't that a nice view there._

She flinches violently, and he growls before snagging a towel from the side and wrapping it around his lover's body.

_Aww, don't go getting all shy on me now. It's nothing I haven't seen before. You look very lovely this morning, my sweet…_

A chill runs down his spine then and there, because. Because. She is swaying on her feet now, letting out a small sound of pain past her lips as she raises a hand to her head, and he suddenly realized just what it was that the mirror-man was in the midst of doing to his love in a burst of terrifying, crystal-clarity.

He realizes that the mirror-demon is tampering with her _mind._

"I won't let you hurt her," If looks could kill, then mirror-man would be dead seven times over at this point. "Get away from her!"

He rears back and punches the mirror in a red haze of anger, right where the mirror-man is still smiling, and suddenly the world fragments and collapses into a thousand different bloodstained shards. Someone screams, but he's fairly sure that he's the one screaming, because claws are digging into his mind and ripping him apart and destroying him–

…

But that's okay.

That's okay.

Because if it was his blue-eyed love suffering through this right now, then he would never be able to forgive himself.

Never.

**2.**

* * *

"Who are you?" he asks eventually, but the man in the mirror simply smiles.

_Does it matter?_

"Yes," he says quietly. "Yes it does. If I have a creepy voice in my head telling me to snap and kill everyone around me, I damn well have a right to know at least _who_ is trying to drive me insane. Why the fuck are you doing this?"

_Such an inquisitive little creature, aren't you? _The mirror-man has the gall to sound amused. _Well, guess I can't blame you for that. I'd probably have the same reaction if I were in your place. Maybe._

"Cut the crap already," he snaps tersely. "Who the hell are you and what do you want? Leave me _alone,_ for heavens' sakes_."_

_My, my, aren't you a rude one. Have you no manners?_

"I _have_ manners. Doesn't mean I have to use them," he glares irritably at the man's face hovering over his left shoulder in the mirror. "_You've_ certainly done nothing to deserve any courtesy from me."

_Oh, how you wound me so. _The voice croons to him patronizingly. _For I am you, and you are me. We're monsters, you and I, mirror reflections of the same soul. We're monsters that will change everything and tear this world asunder._

"… You're insane."

_Insane? Well isn't that a new one. _The doppelganger in his mirror smirks smugly. _May I point out the fact that _you're_ the one acknowledging and talking to a voice in your head?_

He whirls around with a stinging retort on his tongue and–

Empty.

The room is… empty.

**1.**

* * *

"You have to listen to me; I'm a monster," he tries to tell her, tries to explain to her exactly why she should stay away from him. He tries to tell her that he's not _normal,_ that he's _dangerous,_ because lately he knows things that he shouldn't know and he's beginning to lose sight of who he is. "I'm going insane. I'm not someone you should fall in love with."

"I didn't fall in love with you," she says earnestly, looking up at him with those blue, blue eyes that flicker and dance with mesmerizing flames. "I walked into love with you. I ran headlong into love with you. I was fully aware of what I was doing all this time, and I don't regret a single moment of it. My feelings for you will never change. It doesn't matter which reality we are born in, which dimension, which world, because I will search for you and I will find you. No matter where we are, I promise I will always find you and I will love you and only you. I love you. I love you, Byakuran."

_(Will you look at that? _The insidious voice in his head whispers. _Such trusting blue eyes, so full of innocence and guilelessness. She trusts you. She loves you, doesn't she? Always has and always will. She's so easy to manipulate and bend to your whims, such a useful little tool to keep in hand and in bed–)_

He looks away.

**0.**

* * *

.

_*Now read it again, from bottom to top. :3_

.

* * *

.

…

.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Kinda short, but it fits the format, I think. This story is written in backwards chronological order. :D

Mm'kay, so about this little ByakuranOC piece…

…

… Well, this is actually a GhostOC fic, if you want to get accurate about it. xD

So, remember how Ghost is actually Byakuran from another parallel world? How KHR-canon Byakuran went and brought his parallel self from a parallel world, destroying that world in the process? Yeah. This is that world. = w=

Format is a little different from my usual drabble pieces, but it was pretty fun to work with. :3 Credits to Zuiyun for presenting me with another challenge, haha. I have a weakness for this kind of thing…

Here's a breakdown of what happened in the story here, since I know it's rather confusing and probably didn't make much sense. So.

* * *

STORY GUIDE:

**0:** OC and Ghost!Byakuran have already been dating for years, but Ghost!Byakuran begins to hear Evil!Byakuran's voice, and tries to break up with OC in an attempt to keep her safe from himself. Of course, this doesn't go all that well for Ghost!Byakuran, seeing as the OC instead confesses her love for him. (If the OC speech seems familiar, it's because I got the general idea for it from a quote somewhere. Forgot which one it was/who said it, though.)

**1:** Ghost!Byakuran tries to address Evil!Byakuran instead of ignoring him, and finally get a sense of 'what the hell is going on'/'how is this my life.' Evil!Byakuran enjoys screwing with his counterpart.

**2:** OC discovers Evil!Byakuran reflected in the mirror. Evil!Byakuran tries to take this chance to sway OC to the dark side (b̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶C̶O̶O̶K̶I̶E̶S̶ :D) by controlling her mind, but Ghost!Byakuran interferes. Evil!Byakuran takes this chance to break Ghost!Byakuran's mind instead and subject him to his will.

**3:** Timeskip. OC aligned herself with Yuni after Ghost!Byakuran went on a rampage according to Evil!Byakuran's instructions, collecting the Tri-ni-sette along the way. All resistance has already been crushed and Yuni carries the Pacifiers with her, entrusted to her by the Arcobaleno. OC tries to buy a little more time for Yuni to escape, confronting Ghost!Byakuran in hopes of stopping him, but ultimately is unsuccessful in her efforts when Ghost!Byakuran rips out her heart.

**4:** Everyone is dead, and Ghost!Byakuran is the only one left. Evil!Byakuran loosens control on his mind briefly to allow him to realize what he has done (and therefore more WEAKNESS for Evil!Byakuran to take advantage of!).

**5:** Ghost!Byakuran was stuck in Vendicare for aaaages. He's no illusionist like Mukuro. Plus, all that trauma from killing everyone. Makes sense that some memories would be repressed, right? He finds it strange, how that little brown-haired boy fighting so desperately to protect his friends would remind him of _something _(hint: something he himself had wanted to protect)_…_

* * *

On another note, I still have those half-finished GokuderaOC and BelOC drabbles lying around on my flash drive, and a KusakabeOC one buried who-knows-where.

I have now officially given up on trying to work through these prompts in any sort of cohesive order, so I'll just rummage through them from time to time for one that catches my eye and go from there, instead of making a list and trying to write every prompt I get. (HA. That was what I totally wanted to do in the beginning when I first started this story, but it's also something that's totally not going to happen anytime soon.)

Feel free to _continue submitting new prompts_ or leave your thoughts on this latest story~ :3

-XxZuiliu


	3. 10 and 1 (KusakabeOC)

Prompt by **L's Cappuccino**: "KusakabexOC. In which the OC has an equally difficult boss."

* * *

**Diamond Dust**

_3: "10 and 1"_

* * *

**1\. First Meetings**

Romario is the one who introduces them to each other, on a day when Dino is in town to visit his "little brother."

(… Only to be waylaid by Kyou-san halfway to the Sawada household from the airport, and things kind of go downhill from there. As they usually do. He really shouldn't be surprised by this anymore.)

"This is May," Romario tells him. "She's new to our work."

It's the only introduction he manages to get out before a giant turtle crashes through the building next to them and instantly flattens the two other Disciplinary Committee members with him underfoot. Distantly, Kusakabe can hear Kyou-san hissing something about 'biting a stupid herbivore to death' for 'damaging the premises of Namimori,' but to be perfectly honest, he doesn't pay as much attention to it as he usually does.

… Maybe it has something to do with the fact that he's busy trying not to get stomped into the ground like a pancake by a rampaging turtle.

(Where did they even get that much water from, anyways?)

"Does this kind of stuff always happen?" There's a note of consternation in the young blonde's words as she regards the scene with a mix of incredulity and bemusement, not knowing whether to hit her head against the nearest hard surface or to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

Kusakabe exchanges a heavy glance with Romario, full of meaning, full of understanding.

"You'll get used to it," he says to the girl, voice kind. What he doesn't say is _Or else you'll go insane, which is why we keep having to switch out and train up new DC members around here._

The girl narrows her eyes at him suspiciously when Romario has a sudden coughing fit, but then the three of them have to set out and chase down an overgrown turtle before it decides to become Godzilla II.

* * *

**2\. Texting (1-Hello, hello, hello)**

_New contact added: 05. May_

"There," she leans back with a satisfied smile. "Now you have my number. Give me a ring if you ever come to Italy, yeah? Pleasure to meet you, Kusakabe Tetsuya."

* * *

**3\. Unexpected**

The next time he sees her is roughly about a month later, again in Namimori, but without Dino. Romario is still there, though, and she tags along with them when they go out for a customary drink together.

"Sometimes," Kusakabe says, swirling the drink in his hand. "Sometimes I really wish Hibari-san would stop making such unreasonable demands. Those tea leaves are only grown in a specific province in _China_ –how on earth am I supposed to get them within a day?"

Surprisingly, the young blonde lets out a small, unladylike snort at hearing his laments. "Oh, I know that feeling, alright. How do you feel about being woken up at three in the morning just because your boss doesn't want to eat steak anymore and has a sudden craving for shark fillet?"

Kusakabe gave a small start at the news. Dino did this sort of thing? He wouldn't have thought…

A quick glance at Romario proved that yes, May was telling the truth. The older man hadn't done anything to deny her claims.

How… unexpected.

(Huh. Seems like teacher and student were more alike than anyone had ever suspected.)

* * *

**4\. Texting (2-Wine and tea and zombies)**

_Kusakabe T.: Hello, May. Apologies if I'm interrupting you, but I have a fairly urgent request –would you happen have any high-quality red wine on hand?_

_05: hang on one sec_

_05: hold_

_05: kks _

_05: … wait what the hell hibari fucking kyouya wants wine? should I be worried about a zombie apocalypse tomorrow, too?_

_Kusakabe T.: … I fail to see the humor in that. I'll ask Romario instead._

_05: hey hey if it's red wine you want cabernet sauvignon or malbec? _

_05: cuz if you do_

_05: … fuck i'll clear out my boss' cabinet, the drunkard. just give me some tea so i can switch in a replacement and we've got a deal._

* * *

**5\. Reality**

"… And for some reason we were fresh out of wine, so Dino ended up having to serve tea to his guests yesterday," Romario sighed.

Kusakabe glanced at May from the corner of his eye. She seemed wholly unconcerned –that was quite the poker face she had going on there. But when Romario looked away she glanced up slyly and waggled her fingers at him, and Kusakabe bit back a smile.

* * *

**6\. Texting (3-Tea Fiasco)**

_05: yo tetsu got any more of that tea?_

_Kusakabe T.: Didn't I just send you a shipment last week?_

_05: yeah those got burned to a crisp when someone had the brilliant idea of fighting in the kitchen. so, got any more of that tea?_

_Kusakabe T.: … I'll see what I can do._

_05: thanks man you're a lifesaver. boss doesn't like tea but his pa sure does and the old man's coming over tomorrow._

_Kusakabe T.: I'm not a miracle worker._

_05: … damn._

* * *

**7\. Relationships**

Kusakabe's first girlfriend had actually been a girl from Namimori; one Kurokawa Hana, in fact. She was an intelligent individual, if a bit cold at times, but that hadn't bothered him. More importantly, Hana herself hadn't minded that he had to attend to his duties first before anything else –including his own family matters, his personal affairs, _even his girlfriend_.

(It was the reason why his second and third relationships had both failed; neither Mayuko nor Jun had been able to accept that his loyalty to Kyou-san would come first over anything and everything else.)

In the end, his relationship with Hana had failed not because of any disputes they had over his job, but because they were both a little _too _logical –logical to the point that there was no passion between them, if there had ever been any in the first place. They got along more like mere acquaintances or business associates, almost, for all that they carried the official title of boyfriend and girlfriend. The two of them, they… they just didn't… _click,_ for lack of a better word. 'Relationships are gradually fostered,' 'relationships are slowly built;' clearly, whoever created those phrases had no idea what they were talking about.

May was a member of the Cavallone Famiglia. She knew what loyalties to one's boss meant –and more than just knowing, she _understood,_ in a way Hana never quite did (and still quite didn't, seeing as Tsuna-san tried to shield his Sun Guardian's wife from the… darker aspects, of their world).

May was also fire, as opposed to Hana's ice.

At first she always came to Namimori with Romario, but soon she started making trips on her own. And she hadn't acted shy or awkward around him, even in the beginning –she had a sort of brazen streak about her, and somehow that suited him just fine. She wasn't as reserved as Hana had been, but that was fine, too. It meant that sometimes she would tag along while he trained the newest recruits of the Foundation, and sometimes took to helping out and floored the ground with anyone who challenged her.

On the day that Kusakabe finally mustered up the courage to ask May to be his girlfriend, she'd only given him a strange look.

"I thought it was already clear between us that I'm your girlfriend," she'd said matter-of-factly, before biting into her takoyaki and chewing. And then she'd swallowed and said, "Oh, by the way, May's a pseudonym of sorts. An anagram, if you will. My name is Amy."

(She'd smirked at him when his jaw dropped open. And then proceeded to steal his share of the takoyaki too, with an impish light dancing in her eyes as she openly laughed at him.)

* * *

**8\. Ferris Wheel**

"… You're scared of heights?"

"Fuck you," she snarls, violet eyes narrowing dangerously. And then the little compartment swings and lurches, and she gives a small yelp, scrabbling to hold on to whatever she can in a vain attempt to balance herself.

Kusakabe smiles.

"Who would've thought?" he remarks casually, and he knows that he'll pay for this later, judging by the dark glower May –Amy– throws his way, but then a draft of wind catches their compartment again and she pales. Rapidly.

Teasing her is more fun than he had thought it would be. No wonder she liked to tease him so much. Or make fun of him.

(Payback is so, so sweet.)

"I'll get you for this," she promises sullenly, but she doesn't move away when Kusakabe reaches and clasps her hand in his own. For now, this is the only comfort he can offer, but it is enough.

Amy's fingers curl lightly around Kusakabe's own.

* * *

**9\. Texting (4-It's a date)**

_Kusakabe T.: Amy, are you free this weekend?_

_Kusakabe T.: … Hello?_

_05: oh sorry didn't notice first msg. eh, none can do, gotta stay and train up the new recruits. looks like we've got a spineless bunch of weaklings this year._

_Kusakabe T.: We'll swing by that takoyaki shop you like so much. My treat._

_05: ITSADATE_

* * *

**10\. Future**

"What do you think will happen in the future?" he asks her one day.

The violet-eyed blonde rolls her eyes, "We live, we die. Simple as that."

"… That's a morbid way to look at things."

"That's also the truth." She slants a quick look at him, "But even death can be meaningful. I think… what makes the most meaning out of your death is determined by how you live. Or something like that."

He hums lightly.

"I think," he says softly, "I think I would like to live my future with you."

She blinks. Then a radiant smile slowly spreads its way over her lips.

"Well," she says, "I think there are worse ways to go about telling a girl that you plan to marry her. But that's okay; I love you, too."

* * *

.

* * *

**[+1. Proposing]**

Kusakabe's hands are sweaty.

It's okay.

It's okay.

_It's okay._

It's… normal, for something like this, isn't it?

Proposing.

Since Amy isn't part of the Foundation, and is in fact part of the Don Cavallone's famiglia, if he wants to marry her… he has to ask for her Boss' approval. In other words, since she is in another famiglia, he needs Dino's permission to marry her. It is… well, he doesn't think that Amy will reject him, and neither is it likely that Dino will refuse to allow them to be together, but…

…

… He still thinks that he's nervous for a perfectly valid reason, damn it.

"Tetsu?" Amy frowns a little at him and peers up into his eyes, "You're looking a little pale today. Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine," he assures her, though she doesn't seem very convinced. Sharp lady. "When will Dino be here?"

"… In a moment," she says, and hesitates. "Tetsu, are you sure you're not–"

There.

A black limo pulls up to the curb, and tall men in dark suits begin stepping out, forming two lines by the door, and there he is. Dino Cavallone steps out with a friendly smile on his face and a casual air surrounding him, and Kusakabe figures that he'd best do this _now_ before he loses his nerve.

"Eh? Ah, Tetsuya-kun–"

"Dino Cavallone, tenth of the Cavallone Famiglia." He begins formally, dropping to a knee and bowing, "I ask of you your approval to take Amelia as my wife. I swear I will take care of her and love her for as long as I still draw breath upon this world and humbly ask you to bless our union."

…

…

…

"Er…" Dino begins, slowly, hesitantly, and Kusakabe feels something _cold_ and _heavy_ drop into the pit of his stomach. "Um. Uh, Tetsuya-kun, this is all very well and good, but… er, this isn't something I can really–"

"Wait, wait, _wait."_ Amy bursts in, eyes wide. She _stares_ at Kusakabe. "You mean… oh for heaven's sakes, the reason why you were acting all weird was because… because you were going to… _oh my god. _Oh my god, I can't even begin to… Tetsu, you, you know I'd love to, right? I mean, of course I'll marry you, but–"

"You're rambling, May." Dino says. _May. Her name is Amy. _"But, ah, Tetsuya-kun, of course I'd love to, er, 'bless your union,' but… it's not exactly my decision to make."

… What?

"Tetsu," Amy says slowly. "I'm not sure why you think this, but… apparently, we have a little misunderstanding between us. I hang out a lot with the Cavallone Famiglia because I'm good friends with Dino and Romario is sort of like a second father to me, but I'm _not_ part of the Cavallone Famiglia. I'm, er, part of the… Varia, actually. I don't do as much assassination work as the others, obviously, but I do a lot of the organizing and the–"

"You're rambling again, May."

"Suck it, Dino."

Kusakabe wasn't listening anymore.

Varia.

Varia.

_Varia._

… Oh gods, working up his nerve to propose in front of Dino was already bad enough. Now he had to do it in front of _Xanxus?_

* * *

.

…

.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Probably has some minor errors; I'll go back and fix them when I have time.

A little short again, but this is official proof that I can write happy things, too. :D Speaking of which, if you want a "happy ending drabble," make sure you mention it when you submit your prompt!

Out of curiosity, who suspected Xanxus to be May/Amy's boss? :3

For the wine/tea incident –Amy gave Kusakabe the red wine Hibari needed (for relatives, who pulled a few strings for him and demanded wine as payment) and Kusakabe gave her some tea, which she replaced in Xanxus' liquor stash. Of course, all hell breaks loose in the Varia HQ afterwards, and eventually she goes and steals wine from the Cavallone just so the ruckus will die down. Which, naturally, is misinterpreted by Kusakabe when they're with Romario. xD

Also! I've posted a **new story** titled _As Fire Blazes on the Horizon,_ which is a KHRxSAO non-OC-centric crossover. Check it out if you're interested? :3 Haha, I seem to have a bad habit of starting new stories when I already have ongoing ones in the works. Well. Maybe I'll change my writing policy into simply writing whatever strikes my fancy, I suppose.

Till next time

-XxZuiliu


	4. The Rainbow Binds Us (YuniOC)

Prompt by **Sleeping Jay**: "YunixOC. Parallel world where Byakuran is defeated but fabrics of reality were damaged and the world was slowly destroying itself, so they try to use Trinisette to rewind time/repair but both of them end up in different timelines/realities instead. Now, Yuni travels through different realities as she tries to reunite with her love. Maybe she ends up in canon!world?"

* * *

.

_*Sliiiight diversion from prompt. Mostly accurate, though. :D_

.

* * *

**Diamond Dust**

_4: "The Rainbow Binds Us"_

* * *

"_Come, Yuni." The white-haired monster smiles benevolently, and in that instant she can see the true blackness of his heart. It unsettles her. It disgusts her. "I will agree to a rematch with the Vongola if you return to me. I admit that I was hasty –won't you come back to my side?"_

"_Byakuran," she says, and her voice comes out surprisingly calm. Her heart twists and contorts with grief and anguish, but somehow she is still able to soldier on. "I know exactly why you want me to return to you, and that is exactly why I cannot return."_

_His eyes narrow, and the smile fades._

"_What about your famiglia?" His voice is soft and dangerous. "They love their dear princess very much, Yuni. I'm sure they would enjoy being burned or boiled alive for your sake."_

_She closes her eyes. No. No, her heart has already turned to ash and stone._

…

"… _They'll understand," she says tonelessly._

_It's a lie._

_No one will ever understand._

* * *

His name was Sora, and he was her friend.

They grew up together, from the innocence of childhood to the ripening passion that deepened with age. Sora was a gray-eyed Cloud, but rather than slowly, gradually drifting away like so many others of his family were wont to do, he pledged to always stay by her side.

"I love you," he says.

"I will protect you, Yuni," he says, and she believes him wholeheartedly.

They are young and wild and strong, and this allows the future before them to bloom limitlessly and overflow with potential. It is a joy that burns her blood and sears her veins, and she knows he feels the same whenever he looks into her eyes and smiles that soft little smile of his.

Even when they receive the news of Aria being on her deathbed and they _know_ that they will become tied down by duty and responsibility and a hundred other things that shackle them to the ground, she can be… content, because he is there with her, _will_ be there with her, and that is all that matters.

But when she sees her mother for the last time…

"I'm so sorry, Yuni." Her blue-eyed mother whispers quietly, voice solemn and sad, but no less resolute for all that she is condemning her daughter to. "But you are the only one who can do this. You are the only one who is fit to be the Arcobaleno of the Sky."

An innocuous orange pacifier.

Yuni looks at the orange pacifier glowing softly in her hands, and she sees her death.

* * *

("How do you change fate?" the gray-eyed boy asks rather rudely, and Kawahira carefully regards the young Cloud who had gone to such lengths to track him down. "How do you cheat death?"

"You don't." Kawahira says after a small pause, because it is, in essence, the truth of the matter that the young child is asking about.

The boy's eyes narrow.

"There must be a way. You _know_ a way," he persists, and Kawahira sighs.

"There is no way to change fate or cheat death," he tells him. "This is the way of the world. Fate is irreversible and death always demands a soul."

"So is it possible?" the desperate boy demands, unhearing of the reality laid out before him, determined to seek out another path. An alternative for what awaited his loved one at the end of the road she walked. A road that was singularly impossible for him to follow merely due to the difference of the blood that ran in their veins. "Is it possible for there to be a substitute?"

"… Why do you ask?" he inquires cautiously.

"Tell me," the boy says, and this time even though it's half-demand, it's also half-pleading. Kawahira blinks when the boy prostrates himself on the ground, uncaring of the dignity and pride and honor that had been drilled into him by his family at birth, all for the sake of a single girl.

For the descendant of Sepira.

"Tell me, _so I can save her,"_ the boy begs at his feet.)

* * *

Yuni knows how she will die.

She will not die facing Byakuran, holder of the Mare Ring. The white-haired man aspiring to godhood drowns in a sea of his own blood, in a tragedy of his own making, as the Vongola and Giglio Nero ally together and work together to take him down. But the damage done to this world in their battle is massive, _deadly._ The world is unraveling and facing imminent destruction… if nothing is done soon.

If she does not pour her life into the Sky Pacifier that shines brightly in her hands.

This is what she is born for, she tells herself. This is the purpose of her existence. She should be grateful that she has lived long enough to reach adulthood –she should be grateful that she had the chance to laugh and have fun and fully experience life before her mother had died and she was required to take up her duties.

She should be grateful that she was able to love and be loved.

She _was_ grateful.

So grateful, in fact that she didn't… she didn't…

…

… She didn't want to die.

_Sora._

But… she was the only one who could do this. She was the only one. If it meant giving this entire world a future, if it meant giving _Sora_ a future–

"Yuni," a voice behind her says, and she blinks back tears, because he is _here_ and _she doesn't want to die she is still young the war is finally over she still has a whole future ahead of her– _"Yuni, that's enough. You've done enough."

His voice is quiet.

"But," she begins to say, momentarily growing distracted and getting cross-eyed when he leans forward and presses a feather-light kiss to her lips and–

–_and takes the Sky Pacifier from her hands._

"This thing," he says, and she purses her lips when she sees the dark expression on his face when he looks at it. She knows he hates it, knows he feels that it is what tethered her to death, but he didn't _understand._ She is the Sky Arcobaleno just like her mother was before her and this was her fate. Yuni opens her mouth to tell him to give it back and– "If you give your life to it, it will provide the power necessary to heal this world, right?"

He doesn't wait for an answer.

_He doesn't wait for an answer._

"_What are you doing?!" _she screams, but it's too late, too late, _too late._ He is standing in the center of golden violet-edged flames, burning and burning and _burning–_

"A life for a life," he says quietly. "One fate traded for another. All will be equal in the end."

"_Sora!"_

"I love you," the intensity of his gray eyes scorch and sear and _burn_ into her soul, and she chokes out a rasping sob. He smiles softly. "I promised, didn't I? No matter what happens, I will always protect you, Yuni."

The world is filled with light and life and rebirth in the instant he vanishes and the flames disappear, and Yuni _screams._

* * *

"How interesting," Kawahira says when Yuni brings the Sky Pacifier to him. Orange Sky Flames burn brighter than ever inside the glowing pacifier, but thin wisps of Cloud flicker within the luminous depths from time to time. "So that foolish boy has really gone and done it, hm?"

She scowls, and Kawahira glances up in time to catch the expression.

"I apologize," he dips his head to her. "I did not mean any offense to you or any disrespect to his sacrifice. I did not… I had hoped, but I had not believed he would truly go through with this. For what it's worth, you have my condolences at losing a loved one."

"I don't want your condolences," she says quietly. "Please tell me, Kawahira-san. Is there a way to get him back? His flames… his flames are _here,_ I can still feel him with me… he isn't truly dead, is he? The other Arcobaleno, you've told me before that I can resurrect them as long as –"

"Sora-kun is not an Arcobaleno," he says gently, kindly. It does nothing to soften the blow of his words. "But… you are correct, that he is not truly… dead, in the sense that the word usually implies."

Her head snaps up as Kawahira hands the pacifier back to her.

"_The Rainbow, that which appears from time to time before fading away,"_ he recites the long-familiar line, and traces a wooden groove along the table. "For brief moments, it can take you to parallel worlds, to past and future, to places where no one else can or will ever reach. You are granted control over this power because you are the chosen Arcobaleno of Sky, but Sora-kun… yes, he was able to light his Flames of Life, and the Sky Pacifier harmonized and latched onto that power in order to rebuild this world, but he is no Sky Arcobaleno."

"Meaning?"

"He is lost," Kawahira says simply. "Those Cloud vestiges you see in the pacifier –those are the last traces of Sora-kun in this world. The Sky Pacifier will eventually expel his essence in order to become a flame of pure Sky again, as soon as it no longer has need of his power. As for where it will expel him to…"

"Parallel worlds," Yuni whispers, mind awhirl. "Alternate realities. He could be reborn literally _anywhere."_

There is no time to lose.

* * *

Alaude is blond and blue-eyed and a Cloud just like Sora was. Is. _Is._

"What do you want?"

He is also short and brusque in the way Sora tends to be when he is irritated or just wants to get rid of someone, and Yuni muses to herself that the similarities are almost… uncanny, in a way. Alaude's bearing reminds her of Sora _so much; _twenty-six jumps through the Sky Pacifier around her neck and he is the first one who resembles…

…

But it is only a passing resemblance, in the end.

"Sorry," she says, and gives a sad, apologetic little smile to the man, who seems startled by her reaction. "I'm looking for someone, and I thought… no. It's not you. I'm sorry."

"… If you want to find someone," he says after a short, awkward pause, "Go file a missing persons report."

Yuni laughs.

"Oh, if only I could."

* * *

Worlds blur together, time becomes irrelevant.

* * *

Alaude. Rei. Fon. Matthew. Heirong.

None of them, none of them, _none of them–_

* * *

The flickers of violet in her Sky Pacifier finally disappear.

* * *

"_I love you," he says. "I will protect you, Yuni."_

He cannot protect her from herself, and Yuni does not want to be saved. Not from this.

* * *

One day, this happens:

Yuni is standing in a field of flowers, and her younger self from a parallel world comes to her.

"Please," the little girl says quietly, eyes low and downcast. "Please help me. I… you're stronger than I am, than all of us, and I cannot stop Byakuran by myself. Please. My world is the lynchpin –please, _please _help us."

Yuni does not have anything left to lose, and so she agrees.

(Even if Sora had been reborn, what were the chances that she would find him, searching endlessly like this? What were the chances of him still being alive? What were the chances?)

She takes the Sky Pacifier held out to her by her younger self and sees her death again.

(Perhaps, this time…)

* * *

"Yuni-chan, stand up."

* * *

"Yuni-chan, come eat marshmallows with me."

* * *

"Yuni-chan, sit down with me."

* * *

"Yuni-chan, play games with me."

* * *

"Yuni-chan, _kill him for me."_

* * *

Yuni learns to hate Byakuran all over again. Funny, how she hadn't thought of him in _years,_ preoccupied as she was with searching for…

* * *

"Hime-san, please stand up for a moment?"

She stands up mechanically, playing the role of an empty puppet when the young man pulls a jacket over her and bundles her up against the cold.

"Please follow me, hime-san."

A small clearing in the snow. A small clearing, where flowers still bloom. It is… an irregularity.

"Why are you showing me this?"

His eyes are clear and piercing when he looks at her.

"… You once asked me if it was possible for there to be spring in winter, hime-san," he says and smiles, and her breath catches in her throat at how heartbreakingly _familiar_ the expression is.

* * *

Atlas is White Spell, and he is Yuni's caretaker.

She is not as disturbed by it as she should be, and _that_ disturbs her, almost as much as Byakuran does.

Almost.

Because Atlas is different, Atlas _cares,_ somehow, and it is… warm.

* * *

"Call me Yuni," she says one day, and she knows that she is taking a huge risk, but she doesn't care anymore. Atlas will either report to Byakuran that Yuni has somehow regained her free will again or he won't, but Yuni, Yuni doesn't want–

"… Ah," he blinks, after the initial shock is over. A small hesitation, and… "Alright, then, Yuni-san."

The '-san' suffix on her name feels strange, coming from him, but she is happy at hearing her name from his mouth (again).

* * *

(Gunshot.)

Yuni braces herself for the pain, but is surprised when she is pulled down by a strong hand and–

"I will protect you."

"_I will protect you, Yuni."_

* * *

"Help me escape," she eventually asks of him one day, and she bites her lip when So- Atlas, stiffens. "Please help me escape when the time comes that Byakuran-san has arranged a Choice match with Vongola."

He turns slowly, incredulously.

"… Yu– I– you can't just…" he struggled for a moment with his words, before exploding, "Hime-san. Hime-san, are you _mad?"_

Her heart sinks.

* * *

She is surrounded.

In her hurried escape from the Millefiore base, one of the alarms had been triggered –and she has been met with opposition, besieged from all sides, and Yuni knows that she has failed the original Yuni of this world, the one who placed her faith in her and trusted her to stop Byakuran.

"Oho? What's this? We have a little _traitor_ in our midst?"

She blinks back tears when Atlas, blank-faced and calm, places himself squarely in front of her and raises the knives in his hands at the speaker.

They fight.

And fight.

And _fight._

(But it is not enough.)

* * *

"Yuni," he says, just as they are on the verge of being overrun. Yuni, not hime-san. "Yuni, it's not–"

"I'm sorry," she smiles bitterly. "I'm sorry I'm going to get you killed again. But at least this time we'll die together, right?"

His lips thin upon looking at her and Yuni _knows that expression–_

Chaos. Carnage. Madness.

* * *

The next moments pass in a veritable blur and even now, at this very moment, Yuni still isn't quite sure how they managed to cut a bloody path through the Millefiore soldiers that swarmed them. But she knows what she sees in front of her, that the building is collapsing, and they won't make it to the exit and this will all be for naught–

A small push on her back.

A small push on her back, and she stumbles outside into safety, and when she turns–

No.

No.

_No._

This can't be happening, not again–

"_Sora!" _she screams, as flames leap up between them, too high to be crossed and the Millefiore soldiers are still chasing them and she–

He meets her eyes and, suddenly, smiles.

"Leave, Yuni," he whispers, very softly, then roughly spins and stabs into the wall beside him. The Millefiore reinforcements screech to an abrupt halt when a tremor quakes through the earth, through the building–

_No._

_No._

_This can't be happening, not after everything I've–_

"Sora," she says, voice trembling. "Sora. I know this probably won't make any sense but we grew up together in another world and you were the most important person to me but then you sacrificed yourself just so I could live and I've been _searching so hard, __please_ _don't ask me to leave you behind!_ Even if you don't know, even if you don't remember–"

The building shivers.

"… I burned my life into an orange pacifier," he says quietly, just before the steel beams come crashing down.

* * *

.

…

.

* * *

Author's Notes:

… Minor errors and pretty OOC from canon-Yuni. Hopefully the OOC-ness wasn't too bad, haha. = w= Aaaand we're back to the angst. I think I want to write something happy again for the next chapter. :'D

Remember to continue submitting prompts if you have any!

-XxZuiliu


	5. Learning to Breathe (XanxusOC)

Prompt by **Knockoutroundabout**: "OCxXanxus, where OC meets Xanxus as a child, being a child of a vongola member, and they grow as rivals/friends? Just both being little shits to each other and everyone. Then they meet again after Xanxus is unfrozen and everyone is like 'oh shit dramatic moment' and it just goes '...you're as tiny as ever, feather-head.' 'I'll fucking cut you, trash.' Basically happy dysfunctional relationship between happy(?) dysfunctional people."

.

_*Okay, I admit to starting this prompt a looooong while back, but I kinda lost inspiration for it halfway through, so what you read here won't fit into every piece of the prompt even though it was planned to. In other words, it's **incomplete**. Sorry. Figured I might as well just divide it into two parts and post the first one now -if I ever find motivation for finishing the second half, I'll post it, too._

_._

* * *

**Diamond Dust**

"_5: Learning to Breathe"_

* * *

**1.**

The first Rule she learns is: _"Don't look, just run."_

This is what her mother whispers harshly into her ear before _pushing_, and suddenly she's stumbling into filthy cobblestone streets with fire licking away at her body. The raw skin on her back blisters from the ravenous flames, and something inside her _burns _to a wild, staccato beat as well.

She doesn't listen to the first Rule, not the first time, and turns around to look behind at the fire almost instinctively, as soon as she steps away from the house like her mother told her to. And so she watches with wide, fire-mirror eyes as the hungry flames eat her mother alive right in front of her; so close to the raging inferno that the flames can easily reach out and eat her, too.

But they don't, and so she is a mere spectator to the brilliant cloud-fire that burns that night.

(She doesn't quite realize that herself until she finds herself sitting alone in a pile of smoldering embers, burn marks covering every inch of her skin –bruised and scorched, but _alive._)

* * *

**2.**

The second Rule that she learns in wake of the fire is: _"Don't be a crybaby."_

This is what the so-called policeman delivers to her in a flat, unsympathetic tone. When she ignores the Rule this time, too, he slaps her across the face. It doesn't stop the tears from welling up in her eyes, but she at least makes an effort to stop crying.

He slaps her again anyways, before throwing her out of the 'station.'

* * *

**3.**

During the first week she spends wandering the darkness of the slums and slinking around the corners of small alleys, she learns her third Rule: _"Don't hide_."

This is what the big men tell her when they catch her and slam her into the ground, head spinning, and proceed to pin her arms and legs with their large, dirty hands, and then all she knows is _painpainPAIN._

_Don't hide, because you can't escape._

* * *

**4.**

In the slums, she is stomped into the ground and spat on and played with like she's nothing. Less than nothing, even, and she finds –to her surprise, because she's never felt so strongly about anything before, not even when she watched her mother burn right before her eyes– she _loathes _it. She loathes being used, being pushed around, being crushed underfoot like the insignificant cockroaches scuttling around the trash.

(She knows she is weak, and she hates it with a vehement passion that surprises even herself.)

So whenever_ they_ come, she hurls herself at them with all she has; biting and clawing in a whirlwind of limbs and screams and blood. She turns into a wild, vicious thing, and sometimes her ferocity is enough to make them swear and beat a hasty retreat, muttering how _"It's not worth the trouble for such a brat." _More often than not, though, she still wakes up hours later with her body sore and bruises mottling her skin a sickly purple-yellow, blood crusting under her fingernails and sticky and filthy and disgusting and they mock her, telling her that she is hopeless–

* * *

**5.**

But she learns.

She watches the thieves and muggers and just about every odd sort living in the slums fight amongst themselves, and she watches them fight others. She watches how they pivot and turn before letting loose their punches and kicks, watches how they move with a sort of fluid grace that she eventually makes into her own.

She watches and learns, and that's how she comes by her fourth and most important Rule: _"Don't be weak."_

This is what she hears them say to each other after they finish a fight and one of their own is down. No one really cares and they laugh as they watch the downed man bleed out little by little until the light leaves their eyes.

Because weakness is laughable.

(She knows she's weak, but she's not _weak –_the _weak _are the ones who go down after fighting and never get up again. And she always staggers to her feet again no matter how bad a beating her body takes, every single time.)

She very dearly looks forward to a day when she won't wake up to find herself on the ground anymore, because she hates hates _hates _feeling so disgustingly weak.

* * *

**6.**

Almost ironically, she meets him in her greatest moment of weakness, when she is laying face-down on a rotting porch and hovering between the edge of consciousness and unconsciousness. Her body feels like it's burning itself up inside-out with fever-sickness, and there's not a single ounce of strength left in any of her limbs. It irritates and infuriates her; lying here helplessly and there's not a single thing she can do about it–

And then someone grabs her by the hair, fisting their hand close to her scalp, and she's suddenly staring into rage and anger and _power _and–

Then she blinks and it's just the tanned face of a scowling boy in front of her.

"What the hell are you doing on my doorstep, scum?"

She coughs instead of replying; a nauseous, rattling sound.

"Tch. Trash."

His hand lets go of her and her head falls onto the ground again with a _thump. _It hurts, but not as much as the flames eating her alive –not unlike how they had eaten her mother so long ago. Or was it not-so-long –ago?

Either way, it's a miracle in itself that he doesn't toss her somewhere else and instead just steps over her before heading out to do whatever he needed to do. She closes her eyes and sleeps as he leaves, and when she opens them again, the sky is pitch black and she's still in the exact same spot as she was before.

_Huh. Imagine that._

She falls into feverish dreams again; woken only once by someone treading on her back as they headed out the door, and quickly falls asleep again, too tired to be angry.

* * *

**7.**

He doesn't chase her off and she doesn't ask to stay, and somehow that suits both of them just fine.

* * *

**8.**

"Not dead yet, scum?"

"…"

She had left a couple days back when her fever finally broke and her body managed to repair itself somewhat. Somehow, the aftermath of the fever left her feeling better and stronger than she had in _ages,_ which was… strange, though she didn't spend too much time dwelling on it. She set it aside and tried to just focus on the issue of restocking on food and water in the little hovel she called home, but somehow –somehow– she kept remembering the boy-who-sometimes-stepped-on-her-but-never-actually-chased-her-away.

(Is this what they call a debt? If so, she doesn't like it. It feels like she's chained down by something, and she doesn't want to deal with such a burden. She just wants to be _free._)

So sometimes, she'll leave bits and pieces of food on his doorstep as she comes and goes. Occasionally they might run into each other as she comes and he leaves, and he'll say something –usually an insult or some derogatory remark which she takes in stride, ignoring completely– and then they'll part their own ways like they always do…

* * *

**9.**

… Until the day when a group of men close in on the doorstep, shadows looming tall over them as they are silhouetted against the sun. She chances a sideways look at the boy –he looks utterly bored and decidedly unimpressed with this attempt to intimidate him.

"Oi, brat," the ringleader leans down, breath reeking of alcohol, "Where's your dear ol' Ma? She ain't paid fer da merchan'ise I sent her las' week."

The boy's response is extremely blunt and to-the-point. She approves of it.

"Fuck off."

The man scowls first, then smiles patronizingly.

"Now, now, is that any way ta speak ta yer superiors?"

The glare that the boy levels on them is enough to answer what he thinks of that question.

When she sees the men behind him rolling up their sleeves and stepping forward threateningly, one man already raising his arm and fisting his hand –that's when she _moves_.

* * *

**10.**

She barrels into them, knocking down the leader with her shoulder and kicks him between the legs with all she has. The man crumples onto the ground immediately and doesn't get up again, but by then she's busy clawing and scratching with carefully-sharpened nails. She gouges out someone's eyeball with those yellow nails before two of them decide to spring on her at the same time, and she goes down in a whirlwind of limbs and punches.

Their weight disappears as suddenly as it'd appeared in the first place, and she looks up to see a bloody smirk on the boy's face before something in her _clicks _and she launches herself at the men again –wondering if the beautiful, beautiful flames smoldering in his eyes were real and not a hallucination, because this is the second time she has seen them from the boy.

"Shit, these brats!" One of the men swore, stumbling, "The girl's a wildcat and the boy punches like a wrecking ball!"

She hisses and tears out someone's throat with her teeth. It's not the first time she has done so.

* * *

**11.**

By the end of it all, the boy looks decidedly amused when he glances at her again, bruised all over and dripping with blood. She doesn't suppose that she looks any better off than he does. It takes less than a second for her to flick her eyes to meet his, then go back to grooming herself to try and get rid of the blood and gore splattered all over her body. It feels disgusting on her skin.

Then he speaks:

"That was pathetic, kitty cat."

"…"

"What, nothing to say? Like usual?"

It's the last two words that spark something akin to annoyance in her chest. She doesn't quite know how or why, but something in it incites her to look up again and level him with a flat look.

"… What the hell do you want me to say, brute?"

* * *

**12.**

Truth be told, those had been the first words that she had spoken in a long, long time. Ever since she made the decision to stop screaming. Ever since she swore she wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her weak, never again.

(And because no one had cared to listen to her even if she spoke, anyways.)

* * *

**13.**

"That all you've got, kitty?"

"Think you can really outrun me, brute?"

It sets the tone for most of their interactions after that.

* * *

**14.**

She eventually adds a new rule to her list when Brute disappears one day, _"Don't get too attached."_

(A piece of advice a miserable prostitute had sobbed out to her between shaky breaths when a rich man who'd promised her the world dumped her in the middle of nowhere and left her to rot in the ditches.)

She sits on an empty doorstep, simply waiting, because she knows that Brute can take care of himself without her. She also knows that for all his insults and heavy-handed punches to her, he's not the type to abandon someone so easily.

Eventually, though, she stops waiting when it begins to rain, and decides to come back later to check on Brute –she hates getting wet, after all.

She never gets the chance to come back again.

* * *

**15.**

Everyone knows the name _Vongola._

An empire steeped in blood and built on the corpses of those who dared to oppose them.

She instantly remembers her first Rule, _"Don't look, just run," _when she sees _them_; two men casually strolling through the slums together. There's a predatory gait to their strides and her instincts scream for her to run because that's what they _are _–predators. They don't belong to the slums, but that doesn't mean they're not _dangerous._

She turns and runs and doesn't get very far before everything turns black.

* * *

**16.**

"What's this? Bringing in more strays?"

"This was the only one that had good instincts. Did you know how many tried and failed epically in pick-pocketing us when we took a stroll through the alleys? No sense of self-preservation at all. At least this one seems smart."

"Well… whatever you say then, I guess."

"Knew you'd see it my way."

* * *

**17.**

It happens something like this:

She is in a training room with the other kids. Their instructors are "sparring" with them –beating kids unconscious one by one to "toughen 'em up." The man in charge of her has a nasty look on his face, and so far none of the kids he had beaten down were moving anymore.

So, when his hand is reaching out to crush her throat–

_She hates weakness._

_She refuses to be weak._

_She will not be weak._

_Never, never, _never _again._

And purple flames curl forth from her body and _burn_, just like they did in front of her mother so long ago.

* * *

**18.**

"Since you can apparently access your Dying Will flames already, I'll be taking you on as an apprentice. My name is Drey. What about you, kid?"

"… Kitty."

* * *

**19.**

(There is no doubt in Drey's mind that kittens are cute, fluffy, adorable little creatures. There is also no doubt in his mind that his Kitty is anything _but _cute, fluffy, and adorable. Sadly.

His Kitty isn't a sweet little housecat.

She's a goddamned _wildcat_ when she fights with those metal claws fitted onto her hands; always stepping off a battlefield drenched in blood from head to toe. If it hadn't been for the way he'd see her scrubbing at herself to try and get rid of the blood with a faintly disgusted (annoyed) look in her face each time, he would've thought that the little psychopath did it on purpose.

It's part of the reason why he offers her up to the Varia in his place when Tyr sweeps around again. He's not quite sure if he can stop his Kitty from mauling him to death in their training sessions anymore.)

* * *

**20.**

Kitty fights and kills and kills and fights and fights and kills some more until all she dreams of are crimson and copper nightmares. And one day, she learns to laugh in blood, and she idly wonders if she is insane.

Well, insane or not, it doesn't bother her.

* * *

**21.**

Kitty is a good captain.

When needed, she can rally her men and lead them through thick and thin. She allows them to rest if they are injured and does not demand of them the impossible, only of them to put forth their full effort and more.

She doesn't care if they're greedy or prideful or gluttonous. She doesn't care about what they choose to do in their spare time outside of the Varia. She doesn't care whether they go visiting brothels or wandering down to the torture chambers for some fun. She doesn't even care, _doesn't care_.

She really doesn't give a damn about their habits.

Kitty likes to think that she has been very lenient with her men in all the leeway she's giving. Others captains in the Varia find her command… distasteful, though they have no authority over the men she commands. Levi's squad hates her men the most, for they pride themselves on discipline and loyalty.

Kitty doesn't care.

Under her command, there is only a single rule.

All of Kitty's men know that Kitty has one and only one ironclad rule that they are required to adhere to and follow religiously if they wish to remain in her favor:

Strength.

Only the strong stay under Kitty's command.

* * *

**22.**

She is there when Squalo enters the Varia, loud and proud and strong enough to back it all up.

Kitty watches, and smiles.

(When Squalo kills the Sword Emperor, the rest of Varia is appropriately shocked and horrified, in turn. Kitty isn't –in her opinion, Tyr had it coming to him. After all, there is only one reason why Tyr would ever lose to Squalo: _weakness._

And, as all her men know, weakness is the only sin that Kitty cannot forgive.)

Kitty has actually fought Tyr once before. Fought, and lost. The fight had been the last of her entry test to the Varia and was embarrassingly short, but Tyr had deemed her skills good enough. So Kitty became part of the Varia's assassins and worked her way up from there.

If Tyr wasn't alive for her to fight anymore, well… there was still Squalo, the new captain of the Varia.

… Even if he was recuperating in the hospital right now.

No matter.

She could wait.

* * *

**23.**

Squalo remains the captain of the Varia for all of three days before suddenly announcing that Nono's youngest son, Xanxus, will be taking charge of the assassination organization. Kitty raises an eyebrow at the sudden declaration while the rest of the room breaks into pandemonium, but then the entire _wall_ collapses under a burst of Sky flames that _ragefrothburn._

And she _recognizes_ it, strangely enough. Somehow. She hasn't… _seen_ it before, but the flames call to her senses and she-

Blinks.

And.

Smiles.

"Well. I must admit my surprise at seeing you here, brute."

The not-a-boy-anymore-Brute easily strides through the debris and smoke of the wreckage, and when he catches sight of her, she can see the light of recognition in his eyes as well.

"… Hn. The hell are you doing here, kitty cat?"

* * *

.

…

.

* * *

Author's Notes:

… So yeah, incomplete. Lost inspiration to continue from here, but basically Kitty becomes Xanxus' Cloud Guardian afterwards, and. Well. Stuff. In short: Kitty turns out to be the bastard daughter of one of Timoteo's associates in the tech department, though the relation is discovered later on after Xanxus' attempted coup, and Kitty uses and abuses the relationship and her dad's guilt over (experimenting on) her to eventually learn how to unfreeze Xanxus. Don't worry if this doesn't make sense/sounds really weird; it won't until I put up the second part. If I ever do. xD

Feel free to submit multiple prompts, even if you've already submitted or if I've already written one of your prompts. I don't mind. :3

-XxZuiliu


	6. like quicksand falling (RebornOC)

Prompt by **anonymous** on Tumblr. "RebornOC, anything goes. Can I ask for the OC to be a hitman, too? I think that would be cool."

* * *

**Diamond Dust**

_6: "like quicksand we're just falling, falling"_

* * *

Reborn turns and takes up the gun in his hands again.

**10.**

.

His mind remains numbed by the dazed chaos of slaughter, in the aftermath of this slaughter, _massacre,_ but he doesn't feel anything about it.

… He doesn't feel anything about it.

He doesn't _feel_ it, not until he is standing there himself in person. Not until he is standing in the exact same spot where her blood stains the ground a deep scarlet, standing still and numbly inhaling the sharp coppery scent saturating the air while an ice-cold fury spreads throughout his veins_._

**9.**

.

"Did you really think you could get away with it?" Reborn's voice is low, detached, as the worthless scumbag cowers before him miserably, trembling and quivering. "Now. Where is she?"

"I don't know!" The wretched man sobs in terror, voice high and hysterical with fear. "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know! Go ask the Boss! I wasn't the one in charge of this, I don't _know–"_

BANG.

**8.**

.

(The hallways run red with blood.

"It was a trap from the very beginning, wasn't it?" The young woman asks, in a resigned sort of tone that is more the statement of mere fact than asking any question, and the man standing before her laughs.

"Of course," the burly man leading the circle of men closing in on the wounded assassin smiles, and it's a smile filled with bloodlust and glee. "No one crosses us and lives without repercussions, not even the World's Greatest Hitman."

"I'm nothing to him. You won't accomplish anything by killing me."

"Oh, really?"

He raises the tall cleaver over his head. The young woman is already on the verge of death, there is no escape for her, not in a trapped situation like this –but for all the pain she is suffering, there is a still a glimmer of something defiant, indomitable that shines in her eyes.

"… You're not going to get away with this," she says, right before her head comes off and splatters to the ground in messy flecks of gory, crimson red.)

**7.**

.

She isn't here. She isn't _here._

That's when Reborn realizes that there is something horribly, horribly wrong.

**6.**

.

One day turns into two, two morphs into three.

He waits a single week before starting his search, something unnaturally heavy hammering away with a staccato beat in his chest.

**5.**

_._

_"–thank you for letting me love you."_

Those are the last words the blue-eyed woman says to him before she leaves, and it's not even in person. It's left as a message on his phone, and it's a message that comes both too early and too late, as his heart skips a beat for a moment before stuttering, stuttering back into a rhythm that is somewhat-steady-again-but-not-really.

(It's a message that Reborn never does end up responding to, despite his intentions.)

**4.**

_._

_"You just keep me around for the espresso I make, don't you?"_ the young woman's voice drifts over teasingly from the other end of the line, and Reborn smirks.

"What do you think?" he replies smoothly. She doesn't respond to the question, laughing instead.

_"… Hey, Reborn. I just wanted to let you know, to tell you–"_

**3.**

.

"You're an _idiot_."

The blue-eyed woman laughs, lithe muscles uncoiling and loosening under his grip as she flops to the ground and releases the knives in her hands. "Maybe, I guess. Serves me right for accepting a contract like this, right?"

Reborn rolls his eyes.

"You're a hundred years too early to try and one-up me," he informs her candidly.

"… Aah. I know."

(And this is how their story starts.)

**2.**

.

They are both hitmen, assassins, killers for hire. They are creatures who are born in blood, live in blood, and will die in blood. It's a fact of life, for things like them, but sometimes they can't help but think of what if's, what if things were different. Maybe things can change, if things were different.

… But they aren't, and this is the very essence of what marks their story as a tragedy from the very beginning.

**1.**

.

"When I die," he remembers her saying once, "I want to be buried in a field of flowers."

Her voice had been a little wistful, a little self-mocking, a little sad. Because she knew, just as well as he did, that–

**0.**

.

Hitmen have no graves. There are no testaments to their memories; only the faintest drifting traces calling herald to ghostly whispers of what once was and what could have been. Maybe.

* * *

.

...

.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Again, another reverse fic. Bottom to up is the actual chronological order of events.

This was actually posted a few months back on my Tumblr, but I didn't post it here because I thought it was too short. But since I haven't posted anything for _Diamond Dust_ for so long, I figured that I might as well stick this up here anyways…

Not accepting any new requests anymore, because there are a lot to chew through in the reviews now, haha. Unless you have a burning prompt that's practically SCREAMING to be written, I apologize but I will ask for you to hold your fire. :D

Till next time,

XxZuiliu


End file.
